


only want to get you on your knees

by sabinelagrande



Series: Blood Money [3]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Chess, Clothing Kink, Dark!Erik, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-04
Updated: 2012-03-04
Packaged: 2017-11-01 02:13:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/350831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabinelagrande/pseuds/sabinelagrande
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Has anyone ever taught you to play chess, Charles?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	only want to get you on your knees

It's hot today in the city, practically boiling, and for once it feels like a relief to go down into the chilly confines of the cells. Erik is duly escorted in, the trainers as obsequious as usual.

"Stand up and kiss me," Erik says, as he enters Charles's room, and Charles does it just as he should, just as he's been told to. He has to go up on his toes to reach Erik's mouth, because Erik won't bend for him; it's a good way to start out, a nice encapsulation of their relationship in a simple gesture.

He hands Charles the slim case he's carrying; they'll most certainly get to Erik's usual purposes for coming here, but he's got something different in mind first. "Put it on the table," he says, shrugging out of his suit coat and hanging it on the wall, and Charles does. "Has anyone ever taught you to play chess, Charles?"

Charles gives him a confused look. "No, sir."

"Come and sit," he says, pulling out a chair at the table and opening the case, laying it flat. It's a touch soft of him, but he doesn't like his pets to be _bored_. It's too easy for them to get resentful that way, resentful for the wrong reasons. Charles is going to learn that his place is at Erik's feet, that he's not good for anything else; it'll be even better if he knows what he's missing, what else he's capable of.

Erik explains the game, and Charles listens raptly, fascinated; it takes him no time at all to learn the rules, which doesn't surprise Erik very much. Once he's got it, Erik sets up the pieces. He beats Charles with the five moves trick just to prove a point; the next time, Charles doesn't fall for it, but he still loses. He loses again, and again, and then Erik realizes something, and the next game confirms it. "You're letting me win."

Charles tries to look innocent, but he's not a particularly good liar. "I'm not, sir."

"You're letting me win, _and_ you're lying to me," Erik says, in a warning tone, and Charles swallows. "There are a lot of people I'd prefer to be underestimated by, but you're not one of them." That's only half true, but Charles doesn't need to know that, not yet.

"It's just that-" Charles frowns, pursing his lips; he looks frustrated, like he doesn't know if he's allowed to criticize Erik, like Erik is being willfully ignorant. "You're telegraphing your moves, sir."

Erik gives him a curious look. "How so?"

"You're planning your next move before you make the move you're on," Charles says, indicating the board. "Your hand passes over the piece you're going to choose next before you move. This turn, you were going to move your bishop to d6, and as long as I moved my knight, you were going to move your rook to e4." 

Erik blinks. This is only the sixth game they've ever played, and Charles already has him figured out; worse, he figured out something Erik _didn't know_. Erik had read the reports on his intelligence in his file and assumed them to be pufferies, a nice selling point for someone with a taste for humiliation. Now he's starting to think they were underestimations too.

It's just too bad life isn't a meritocracy. 

"I'll tell you what," Erik says, leaning over the board and smiling at him. "If you win, I'll give you a reward."

Charles shies away a little, looking the way he does when Erik offers him something, skeptical and hopeful at the same time. Erik just keeps smiling long enough for Charles to buy it; he beats Erik handily, faster than Erik thought he could, smiling as he puts Erik in check. "Good work," Erik tells him, pushing his chair back from the table. "Strip and come here," he says, unbuckling his belt and pulling it through the loops, and Charles's face drops.

He promised Charles a reward, and he's going to get it; he's also going to get a reminder that, no matter what happens, he doesn't win.

Charles looks extremely reluctant, but he doesn't hesitate, piling his clothes in the chair and walking over to stand in front of Erik. "Hold out your hands," Erik says, and Charles does it, even though he seems very unsure about the whole thing.

Erik learned a long time ago not to get caught out; all of his belts have a strip of metal attached, just in case. In this case, it lets him wrap the belt around Charles's wrists, weaving in and out of them. When he's done, they're as good as handcuffs- Erik's going to introduce him to those soon enough, but this doesn't look nearly as intimidating.

Charles is scared, but not as much as Erik thought he'd be; it's so nice to know that they're making progress. "Turn around," Erik tells him, putting his hands on Charles's hips to encourage him, and then he pulls Charles into his lap. Charles knows this game; he relaxes against Erik, letting Erik do what he wants. Erik knows how much he likes it; he's very bad at subtlety, no good at hiding how much he likes the feel of Erik's clothing against his skin. Erik thinks about using him as a doll sometimes, putting him in a thousand-dollar suit just to see what he'd do. Maybe he'd make it a skirt suit; the image of him kneeling in that, hem flared out around his knees, painted mouth around Erik's cock, is incredibly alluring.

He scratches his nails lightly down Charles's stomach, making him squirm a little, before he takes a hold of Charles's cock, stroking him slowly. Charles settles back against him, his head on Erik's shoulder; Erik lets him rest there for a minute, just enjoying, long enough to lull Charles into a false sense of security. 

"On your knees, facing me," Erik says suddenly, pushing him away; Charles does it, bound hands making it awkward, and looks up at Erik in confusion. "I told you you were getting a reward," Erik reminds him. He slides his foot in between Charles's knees, far enough that the fabric of Erik's trouser leg is just brushing his cock. "Well, go on."

Charles's brow furrows. "I don't know what you want me to do, sir."

"I think you do," Erik says. "You love how it feels, don't you? All that smooth, warm fabric." He bends down, smiling at Charles. "Imagine how good it's going to feel on your cock." Charles sucks in a breath. "Come on," Erik coaxes, reaching out to run his hand through Charles's hair. "You want to."

Charles nods; he puts his bound hands on Erik's knee to brace himself, leaning forward. He moans softly when he presses his cock up against Erik's leg, moving his hips slowly. This is such a good trick; he's got Charles down on his knees, completely degrading himself, and Charles _likes_ it, only because he doesn't know he's not supposed to, only because he knows Erik wants him to. This one's so good that he wishes he shared more, because it's almost too much to keep to himself.

It doesn't take Charles long to start moving faster against Erik's leg, grinding against it, making little noises as he does it, like he's trying to keep them in. "Charles," Erik says, in a warning tone, and Charles knows what he means; he's not to talk, but he's not to hold back when it comes to making noise. He makes a face, but he sighs loudly, the sound turning into a groan as Erik shifts, pressing against him harder. "Go on and come when you want," Erik tells him, carding a hand through Charles's hair. "You earned it."

Charles keeps moving, desperate now, his fingers clutching at Erik's knee. His face is twisted up in concentration, like he's trying so hard to come and not come at the same time. "I said do it, boy," Erik snarls, and Charles shouts, bucking forward, collapsing heavily onto Erik.

Erik pets his hair while he pulls himself back together, but it isn't long before he shifts, bending down. Without prompting, Charles leans in, carefully licking his come off the fabric of Erik's trousers. Erik very nearly goes off right then, just watching; God, but Charles is shameless, in a very literal sense of the word. He's a blank canvas; until Erik got to him, he'd always been told his body was strictly off limits, but nobody's ever taught him _why_. He was only ever an object looking for a buyer, kept clean in anticipation of when he'd be needed, and no one ever told him that was anything less than normal.

Nobody ever taught Charles about _sin_.

Erik unzips his trousers; he had a plan, a timetable, but he's bumping it up right this second. He deserves to skip ahead a little, especially when things are going this well. Anyway, Charles is probably better off if he doesn't have to do this next part for very long on his very first go- and at this rate, he definitely won't be doing it for very long. "You're going to suck me off," Erik tells him, and Charles's eyes go wide. "You'll learn how to do it properly later. Right now, I just want your mouth."

Charles swallows. "Yes, sir," he says, and he's got that look, the one that Erik has come to recognize, terrified but determined.

Erik takes his cock out, biting his lip as he wraps his hand around it. "Come on, boy," he says, and Charles carefully moves his hands out of the way and kneels up, leaning forward and taking a breath. Erik really wants to grab him by the hair and shove into his mouth, but that isn't how this needs to go. Charles hesitantly licks him, flicking his tongue over the head, and Erik has to try not to groan. 

Before Erik can growl at him to get on with it, Charles leans in, taking a little of it into his mouth, barely more than the head. He sucks gently, carefully, and it's so sweet to know he's never done this, never given it up for anybody else. "Take more," Erik tells him; Charles looks up at him, and it's a fucking miracle that that's not where it ends. "Just suck on it and move your head," Erik says, his voice strained. "You're doing fine."

Charles shuts his eyes, moving down a little farther on Erik's cock, sliding it in and out of his mouth. Erik lets himself move his hips slowly, not enough to startle or choke him, just enough to help him along; it feels like Charles is teasing him, right this second, and Erik doesn't know how long he can let it go without just grabbing the back of his head and fucking his throat.

Charles gets a little braver, sucking harder, leaning up so he can take more into his mouth. Erik's finally getting there; he laces his hand into Charles's hair, moving his head faster, and Charles is catching on, moving his tongue against Erik's cock. And then Charles makes a noise, moans, small but definitely there, and that's it.

He holds Charles's head in place as he comes into his mouth; Erik's willing to be forgiving about a lot of things, willing to teach in order to get exactly what he wants, but this is one thing that Charles is going to know from the very beginning. "Swallow it," Erik orders. "Swallow all of it."

Charles struggles, trying to get away, but Erik doesn't let up until Charles does as he says. Charles coughs at little when Erik does let him go, sitting back and licking his lips. He looks so good like this, hair mussed, lips wet and a little swollen; Erik's going to see it as much as possible as time goes on, but there's just something about seeing it for the first time.

He loosens the belt, letting it fall from Charles's wrists, as he pulls Charles up to kiss him. "Well done," he says. "You'll learn quickly." Erik stands up, and Charles doesn't move, just kneels there waiting for instructions. He looks good, so Erik just leaves him, walking away, picking up the belt with his power and slotting it through its loops. He checks his watch; this has been a pleasant diversion, but there are more important things he needs to be doing.

He looks back over his shoulder, reaching for his jacket. "Pack up the chess set," he tells Charles, turning back to pull it on; he feels something move in his pocket- yes, he'd almost forgotten.

Charles is waiting by the table, and Erik walks over. "I'm going to leave this here for you," he tells Charles, pulling the device out of his pocket and putting it on the table. "It's a little game. You can play chess on it." This is the first of many things that Charles will owe him for, kindnesses that Erik can use later when he wants to get something from him without the impression of force. "Try not to beat the computer on the first go."

Charles takes it into his hands, and it's clear that he's trying very hard not to cry; Erik knows full well that no one's ever given him anything before, no matter how small. He takes Charles into his arms, and Charles quits trying to hold it back, his tears soaking into the fabric of Erik's jacket.

"There, there," Erik says; despite appearances, there's still some warmth left in his little black heart, and it's sort of touching, the gesture that he's making. "I said I wouldn't hurt you, didn't I? As long as my boy is good, I can be very generous."

"Thank you, sir," Charles says, muffled and shaky. 

Erik holds him there for a long moment, until he's not crying anymore. He lets Charles go, picking up his case from the table. "Kiss me goodbye," he instructs, and Charles does it, maybe a little more passionately than usual.

As Erik leaves, he looks back, for once, just to see the look on Charles's face, the look he put there, the look of adoration.

Looks good on him.


End file.
